Seven Hours of Terror
by cheezburgerlover
Summary: The Seven Hour War was the most horrific day in the Earth's history. The Combine seek to enslave the human race forever, dooming the Earth's population. But one man has the courage to stand up and say, "Not so fast!" Complete.
1. The First Hour: Commencement

_**I was struck with this idea a while back. The Seven hour War seemed like a nice thing to write about. But not through Barney's eyes. Just through a normal person's eyes. Several locations might be based on places around where I live. So here goes! **_

Disclaimer: I do not own Valve, (That'd be pretty sweet!) the NHL, the NFL, the NBA, or any other owned things that happen to be mentioned.

Time: 11:57 PM

"Geez, it's almost midnight. I gotta get going!" I told Lenny, the bartender and manager of the pub, "Lenny's Drinkin' Hole". It was a quiet bar, the only times it was really busy was around the Super Bowl or the Stanley Cup or the NBA finals.

Today was a normal, slow day in October. A few people came and went, but the bar was always quiet. And I liked it that way.

"And I guess that means it's closing time." Lenny had been absentmindedly wiping the same glass with an old dishrag while watching the television for the past 15 minutes. He finally put it back on a shelf behind him.

--

As I started to put on my jacket and step out of the bar, the ground started shaking lightly, just barely enough for the tiny bit of beer in my cup to start rippling. The shaking intensified. Glasses fell off of shelves. Lenny hopped over the counter and dove under a table. I did the same. The shaking didn't stop. It got so strong, that several ceiling panels began to fall from the ceiling.

The shaking finally slowed to a standstill.

"Damn earthquakes." Lenny muttered angrily under his breath.

I would have believed it was an earthquake if we weren't a zillion miles from any fault lines. I told this to Lenny.

"Fault lines? What're those?" He asked.

"They create earthquakes. If we don't live near one, we shouldn't get any earthquakes. And we don't live near any."

"Hmm. I dunno what happened, then."

Suddenly, the lights went out. The TV went black. I couldn't see my hand in front of my face.

"What the hell?" I climbed out from under the table, careful not to bump my head on the table.

The lights came back on again. The TV began working again, but it had switched to the local news channel.

The anchor said, "This is a breaking news update. Several cities around the globe have reported major earthquakes, followed by brief power outages and strange extra-terrestrial objects flying through the sky and landing. Many people believe that this is a sign of the apocalypse, and that this is beyond any terrorist's abilities. We, here in America, have suffered the same. Every major city has reported strange objects and power shortages. A rural area in northeastern Oklahoma also reported strange occurences. We do not know the actual cause. The president is also scheduled to speak in approximately five minutes on the recent happenings. For that, we go to our senior White House correspondent, Joseph Niles."

The scene switched to a professional-looking man in a gray suit. Behind him, a podium was visible with the seal of the United States.

"Thanks. I am here in the East Room at the White House, awaiting the president's address to the nation. He is expected to use extreme measures to keep the country safe."

"Safe, my ass. I'm grabbin' a shotgun and looting the mall."

"I think that's pretty stupid." I told him.

"Well, Mr. I-Never-Do-Anything-Wrong, what're you gonna do?"

"Grab a shotgun and hide at home."

"Wimp. Hey, there's the president!" Lenny pointed at the television screen. The president was being escorted to the podium by a few Secret Service members.

The camera focused on the president as he cleared his throat and motioned for his bodyguards to stand aside. "My fellow Americans, this is a time of toil for the entire globe. I believe that this a terrorist's work, not the apocalypse. But, it is necessary to take any precautions against any more attacks occurring on American soil. Therefore, no aircraft of any sort will be able to leave the country as of tomorrow. The same applies for any transportation of any kind. And, with much hesitancy, I am authorizing martial law upon the American people. I recognize that-" The president was cut short by an explosion. The camera spun around to the entrance of the East Room.

The doors had been blown apart by something. Masked soldiers that I had never seen before rushed into the room. Secret Service agents tackled the president to the ground, but the strange soldiers opened fire with strange guns I had never seen before. The Secret Service agents were killed immediately. The president was picked up by a soldier and stabbed in the back of the head with a knife.

"Holy..." I couldn't believe my eyes.

The soldier then approached the camera, raised his gun, and the camera lost its feed.

--

Lenny leaped over the bar counter. He reached for a drawer and threw it open. He then took out a hunting rifle.

"Let the looting begin!" He charged out of the bar, letting loose an uncensored flow of curses.

--

I had no idea what to do. My country's president had been assassinated. A strange new kind of._.. thing _had invaded the Earth. And one of my friends had just abandoned me with a rifle and a fiery passion for looting. Beautiful. I had no idea what to do.

But, as if an answer to my dilemma, my cell phone rang. It startled me, as I had gotten used to the peaceful silence of the bar. I snatched my phone out of my pocket and answered the call.

"Hello?"

"Robert, where are you? Are you okay?" It was my wife. She was, no doubt, scared to death.

"Honey, I'm fine. How are the kids?"

"They're sleeping. I'm about to wake them up, though."

"Don't. I'm coming home now. We'll discuss this when I get home."

"Get here quickly!"

"Don't worry. I'll-" Suddenly, the window to the bar was blown apart. The door was knocked down. Three men ran in, grabbing as many bottles of alcohol as they possibly could.

One grabbed my phone right out of my hands. I tried to grab for it, but he whipped a handgun out of his belt and pointed it at me. "Don't move!" He snarled. He smashed one of the beer bottles on the ground after shooting my cell phone. He then pulled out a cigarette lighter and bent down to ignite the alcohol.

He grinned and flicked the switch. The flame, as weak as it looked, seemed to tease me.

If I didn't react soon, I would be killed. So, I had no other choice than to kick the man in the face. He screamed in pain as he fell backwards. His handgun and his lighter flew out of his hands. I dove for the gun and grabbed it off of the floor just in time. Another man had dove for it as well.

My oldest son decided to join the Army, and after a year, he came home, took me to a shooting range, and taught me to use a gun. Looks like those lessons were about to pay off. I cocked the gun and fired at the ceiling once. That got all of the men's attention.

"Look, you guys. I don't want to have to use this, but if you keep looting, I will. Drop your guns and kick them away."

The two armed men refused. They both pointed their handguns at me. Two on one was never fair!

But then, I noticed something. The two men hadn't bothered to watch where they stepped. They were standing in a pool of beer.

"Okay. Before you kill me, can I share a bit of trivia?"

"What?"

"Did you know that alcohol is very flammable?"

"Huh?"

"Let me demonstrate." I smiled and fired at the alcohol.

--

I stepped out from Lenny's Drinkin' Hole. I had lit the two men on fire and shot the other one. I didn't want to arrive home with a handgun, but I didn't want to be shot on the way there. I decided to toss it away once I got home.

As soon as I realized what was happening on the street, I almost fainted. Shops were on fire. People with guns were running around. A group of about ten was trying to overturn a police car.

They were successful, after trying a few time. A dead cop fell out of the car window as the car began to tilt.

The whole street was a mess. Papers were strewn everywhere, and a few other dead police officers littered the street.

I couldn't believe my eyes. Sure, I was horrified of the "aliens", or whatever things they were, but this was, at the moment, even worse!

Two men saw me. They charged at me with knives. I really didn't want to kill them, but I had no choice... I raised the gun. Both men stopped in their tracks, turned tail and ran off.

_That was easier than I thought! _I began running to my car, parked a half mile down the street, trying not to threaten anyone else. But a few men cornered me, pointing 12 gauge shotguns at my head.

"Drop the weapon!" They demanded. In all of the action, I hardly realized that they were police officers. I gladly dropped my gun and kicked it away. Satisfied, the police ran off. They shot a man that was applying a choke hold on a bystander. He crumpled to the ground.

Martial law had already been taken into effect. Police ran all over the street. I needed to get home, and fast, My wife was probably terrified by now.

I ran to pick up my handgun, then ran to my car, which had two broken windows. Glass was all over my seat. I quickly swept the glass onto the floor of the car. I hopped in and slammed the door. The remaining glass in the window fell out. I grabbed my keys out of my pocket and quickly tried to shove the key into the ignition. I fumbled with it for a few seconds, but it finally slid in.

I turned the key. Since my car was handed down to me by my mother, it took some doing before it finally roared to life. I pressed the gas and drove away from the scene.

Air rushed through my windows. I didn't want to be easily noticed, so I took surface streets, avoiding the freeway.

--

I finally pulled into my street. I quickly turned onto my driveway and leaped out of the car. I threw the handgun into a flower bed and ran to the door. I couldn't believe what I saw.

--

The door had been blown apart. Pieces of wood lay all over the entry hallway. On the wall was a large bloodstain. I gasped, my heart pounding in my throat. I ran back to the flower bed, grabbed the gun, and ran back inside. I first ran to the kid's room.

One of my two sons lay on the floor. His head had been severed, it looked like he had been beat with something. The entire room was trashed. His pillow was stained with blood, and it had been ripped to shreds. I couldn't believe what was happening. I fell to my knees and screamed.


	2. The Second Hour: The White Eagles

**Thank you to the reviewers of my previous chapter!**

**Anything you recognize belongs to its rightful owner. Anything you don't might still belong to someone else, but I made it up.**

**---**

**Time: 1:01**

What was I going to do? My son had been battered to death. _To death_. I had no idea what to do with the body, or what I could do. I definitely wouldn't sink as low as looting, but I would try to find whoever did this and give them a piece of my mind. And a taste of lead.

I stood up. The only thing driving me now was anger. I didn't bother to check the rest of the house. My son was dead, my other son was probably dead, along with my wife. I thanked God that my third son was serving in the Army, and wasn't here, with all this madness.

--

I stepped back out of the door. I checked my handgun's ammo and turned back around. To my surprise, two somber, muscular men dressed in white coats were standing in he driveway with a sleek white Lexus. One looked very young, as if he had just graduated from college. The other looked older, at about thirty-five. The younger man had short, curly hair and a few dimples in his cheek.

The older man was bald, with a goatee poking out of his chin. They both carried large assault rifles. The bald man approached me. "Is your name Robert?" He had a slight Spanish accent. I nodded. "Last name?" I told him. He smiled at me. "Welcome to the White Eagles, Robert."

--

"The what?"

"We saw this attack coming. And we are going to rebel. We were watching you ever since you stepped out of that bar, we followed you home, and we had other people watching your house, even before your sons were killed and your wife taken away. They were the aliens, Robert. They came to your house and killed your kids and took your wife."

"Y-you mean you saw them kill my kids? And take my wife?"

One of the men nodded.

"Then why didn't you stop them!?" I screamed in his face. The other man pointed his rifle at my head.

"Listen, you want us to kill you or do you want us to explain everything _first_? God, at least let me tell you our names. I am Gunther, my comrade here is Carter." He motioned for Carter to put down his gun. "And we are part of a rebellion group known as the White Eagles. As I said earlier, we saw this thing coming, we prepared. We began stockpiling, we began to horde weapons and other resources."

"Then why didn't you-" Gunther held up his hand.

"You have the same motivation as many other White Eagle members. You have suffered great loss. And I verified your credibility to be a White Eagle when you stepped out of your house. Your expression was black anger, Robert. That is the motivation you need to get something done. Revenge. Anger. So if you want to make a difference instead of being annihilated by this alien race, join us." The man held out his hand.

I didn't know what to do! "Robert, you have no other choice. You will most likely be killed without proper training and help." Carter tried to reason with me. He had a perfect American accent.

"Well...oh, fine."

Both Gunther and Carter grinned and stepped aside. Gunther held up the key to their car, and pressed a button. The doors automatically opened and I was instructed to sit in the back seat. Carter jumped into the driver's seat, and to my surprise, Gunther hopped on top of the car and used a strange strap up there to hold him in place. He cocked his rifle and hit the ceiling of the car to signal Carter to start driving.

Carter stepped on the gas and the car sped away from my house. As we merged onto the freeway, which had flaming, wrecked cars everywhere, Carter started talking.

"Listen. It is impossible for Gunther up there to spot everything that is a threat. You gotta back him up." Carter handed me his assault rifle from the seat next to him. He then returned his eyes to the road. "It has a silencer. Don't use your handgun, stealth is key right now."

I didn't feel like asking why, if they wanted to be stealthy, they were taking a freeway in a white vehicle.

"You ready?" Carter asked. I nodded and cocked the gun. He rolled down the windows to the car and yelled to Gunther over the scream of the wind rushing through the car.

"GUNTHER! ROBERT IS GONNA HELP YOU FIGHT OFF WHATEVER YOU NEED TO FIGHT OFF!"

Gunther answered back. "I'LL TAKE ALL THE HELP I CAN GET!"

With that, he fired at a crowd of soldiers on the other side of the freeway. They were all dead before I had fired off two bullets.

I saw another soldier directly behind the car, and probably even before Gunther, but my aim was so off that I had missed him by twenty feet. Gunther, however, was able to shoot and kill him even when the car drove farther and farther away.

"ROBERT! THE IDEA IS TO AIM _AT _THE ENEMY!" Gunther yelled down to me, trying hard not to laugh at my gun skills. I ignored him and shot a soldier who had ran right over the guardrail on the freeway in front of our car. He had even discharged a few bullets into the windshield, which remained resilient to the gunfire.

Finally, Carter exited the freeway onto a main street. There were groups of soldiers and police men trying to keep the civil unrest under control. They ignored us as we drove by.

Carter turned onto a quieter street and accelerated again. This time, I heard a "THUD" on top of the car. I heard Gunther swearing in Spanish as he threw an alien soldier off the top of the car. I shot him right as he hit the ground.

The houses began to get a little more unkempt and a little more abandoned. This part of town was affectionately known as "The Pits".  
"Did you set up shop in The Pits?" I asked Carter.

"What of it?"

"Why here?"

"Because the aliens probably wouldn't suspect an underground rebel movement to be in the worst part of town!"

"Actually-"

"Be quiet and keep watch." Carter waved his hand around.

Fortunately, there were no more alien soldiers after Carter told me to "be quiet and keep watch". Carter pulled up to a small shack with its white paint peeling off. The door looked weak enough that a fly would knock it over if it landed on it. Carter and I hopped out of the car and I gave him back his rifle while Gunther was undoing his straps. He hopped off the car as well and led us to the side of the house. A metal gate guarded the back yard. A thick chain was wrapped around the gate. Gunther simply pulled the chain off of the fence and opened the gate. We walked down a narrow alleyway alongside the house until we arrived at a small tool shed.

Gunther pulled a walkie-talkie out of his pocket. He pushed a small button, held the walkie talkie to his mouth, and said, "Gunther and Carter at front gate, with new recruit. Over."

He replaced the walkie talkie and waited for a few seconds, whistling a tune. Finally, the tool shed's door clicked. He pulled open the door to reveal...the inside of a tool shed.

"So where's the secret base?" I asked.

Gunther dusted off a small portion of the floor with his foot to reveal a trapdoor. He lifted it with a small metal ring. The trapdoor itself was about half a foot thick. I could see a set of very steep stairs descending into the darkness.

"Close the trapdoor behind you when you come down." Carter instructed me.

Gunther began climbing down, followed by Carter and then a very hesitant me. As the trapdoor shut, it made a huge "BANG" that reverberated through the entire chamber. Now, I couldn't see where I was going. I climbed down about twenty feet until my feet felt hard ground. I could see a dimly lit hallway stretching out in front of me for a few more feet, until it was abruptly cut off by an enormous steel door. Gunther and Carter were already waiting there for me, guns in hand. Gunther produced a small key card, as did Carter. They scanned the cards in two little slots in the door.

"Carter A. Milton, checking in." Carter spoke into a microphone.

"Gunther Ortiz, checking in." Gunther spoke into the same microphone.

A voice replied through that microphone. "Welcome back, boys. Come on in." The door made an enormous groaning sound as it slid forward and upwards. A small service lift was visible at the end of another short, well lit hallway. Gunther pressed a button by the lift.

An automated voice said, "Five...Four..." Gunther, Carter, and I stepped onto the lift as the voice finished the countdown. The lift descended faster than I expected. We probably went down about one hundred feet.

As the lift slowed to a stop, I saw a man in a brown suit waiting expectantly in what looked like the lobby of the White Eagles. The symbol for the organization was an eagle, in entirely white feathers. The eagle had a disembodied head in its talons and had a peace sign burned into its beak. The symbol was stamped on the floor of the lobby.

The man greeted us. "Hello, Gunther, Carter. This must be the new recruit. Glad to meet you." He held out his hand, which I shook firmly.

"Robert, allow me to introduce you to the head honcho around here." Carter gestured to the man. "His name is Wallace Breen."


	3. The Third Hour: Rapid Training

_**Hey guys, cheezburgerlover here. Dunno why I said that. T'was pointless. Aaaaanyway, onwards with the story. Thanks for the reviews, by the way. Yes, that's what I wanted to say. Ahem. Onwards.**_

_**--**_

**Time: 2:00 AM.**

"Pleased to meet you." I said. I held out my hand reluctantly, which Wallace shook firmly.

"Likewise." He smiled. "As Mr. Milton said, I'm the head honcho. I understand you want to join the White Eagles and help fight the Combine."

"Yeah, that's right."

"Well, you'll need some proper training and attire before you can go out into the field. The way things work around here, we send out our people in groups of two. Gunther will work with you, and I'll assign Carter to someone else. After all, Gunther is the most experienced one around here..."

Carter punched Wallace in the shoulder. Wallace slapped him across the face and kicked him to the ground, laughing.

"Never underestimate me, Carter!" Wallace laughed and helped Carter back up. Carter laughed nervously.

"Anyways. Robert. I'll show you to your room, give you some proper clothes and weapons, and send you off to the training rooms. Follow me."

--

Wallace started down a hallway with numbered metal doors. He stopped at number 16, grabbed a key card out of his pocket, and slid it down the lock of the door. It clicked and opened. He tossed the key card to me. "You'll need it more than me."

In the room was a simple cot with white clothes. Even white boxers. A dusty light bulb hung from the ceiling. On top of the clothes was an M16, like the ones belonging to Gunther and Carter. Clips of ammunition were strewn over the cot.

"Eat your heart out, Robert. Just be at the training room in two minutes with the gun and some ammo. Follow the signs." With that, Wallace, Carter, and Gunther left me alone. I quickly changed out of my jeans and shirt and into the scratchy, starchy-clean suit. What I hadn't taken time to notice was the White Eagles emblem emblazoned onto both shoulders. Damn, I felt important! I adjusted the collar, grabbed my gun and two clips of ammunition, and left my room, closing the door behind me.

--

I followed the signs and unlocked a door that said, "Weapons Training and Practice Room. Warning: Protective Gear Must Be Worn At All Times."

Next to the door were two white boxes. Inside were a ton of orange earplugs. In the other box were safety goggles. I grabbed a pair of both, stuffed them in my ears, and covered my eyes, and entered the room.

It was a shooting range. A man with hair down to his waist was standing behind a table with goggles and earplugs like me. He held his own M16.

"Hello, Robert. I'm Darrel, but you can go ahead and call me whatever. I hate that name anyway.

SO! You're here to learn "Whooping Combine Ass 101: Express." The boss calls it rapid training, but it sounds too professional. So, step right up, step right up. I don't bite. First, I'll teach you a thing or two about your gun. This is the safety, this is the muzzle, this is the butt, this is the muzzle brake." He pointed out all of the parts quickly. "Here we have the upper and lower receivers, the magazine release, the rear takedown pin. A-OK?"

"Uh...yeah."

"Sweet! So, to reload," Darrel snatched the gun from my hands. "You simply pull the magazine release, let the bugger fall out, and slide the new magazine in there like this. Here, take your gun back."

I took the gun back from him. "You'll need some heat resistant gloves if you want to fire this thing for longer than three seconds. Heats up pretty damn quickly. I don't have any of those handy, so just fire a few bullets at a time. I'm gonna get these targets moving so you can begin your express ass-whooping."

Darrel walked over to the wall. There was a green button. He was about to press it, but paused. "You wouldn't happen to have that...disorder, would you?"

"What disorder?"

"You know, when you spaz out when you see flashing lights?"

"Epilepsy? Why do you ask?"

"Do ya have it or not?"

"No."

"Groovy. I'm giving you ten seconds to shoot as much as you can." Darrel pushed the button. The room darkened until I couldn't see the targets at the end of the room. Then, strobe lights began to flash. The targets began to move quickly. Random loud noises sounded.

I opened fire blindly. I couldn't tell what I was shooting. I forgot completely about the overheating warning. I dropped my gun in pain. The noises stopped, the strobe lights turned off, the targets quit moving, and the room returned to normal.

I heard Darrel laughing. "DUDE! That was the biggest fail I've ever seen! No offense."

"None taken." I grumbled.

"Let's see how much ass you whooped." He pointed to a screen above the targets. It read "00". "Zilch. Robert, c'mon! My grandma can shoot better than you! And do you know what? SHE'S DEAD! Gimme your gun." I handed the rifle to him without saying a word.

"Lemme show you how it's done. Hit the button for me, will ya?" I walked over to the button and slammed it angrily. The room darkened and the whole thing started up again. Darrel fired in short bursts, focusing on certain parts of the room at a time. The counter above the targets grew quickly.

After ten seconds, the counter read, "11". Darrel swore.

"Why swear? 11 is awesome!" I told him.

"No, it's bad. I'll tell you what's awesome. 20. The highest I've gotten was 18."

"Can I try again? I kind of saw some strategy to use when you were firing."

"Go ahead. Don't choke. Or burn, for that matter." He slapped me on the back and hit the button.

I stared straight ahead at the targets. I drowned out the noise that was leaking through my earplugs and fired at a target. Got it. Next target. Bull's eye. When the ten seconds were up, I had shot four targets.

"That's okay, it rivals my grandma's skill. A few more runs and you'll be golden. Go 'head and reload." I quickly slid the old magazine out and a new one in. Darrel started the simulation again. At the end, I had five.

--

After five more minutes of ten-second simulations, I threw off my goggles and yanked out my earplugs. I let out a deep breath. "Oh, man. I think I'm good." My highest score was 16.

"Well, it's a good thing you took the "Combine Ass-Whooping 101: Express" instead of the normal course. I guarantee you'd never want to handle a gun again. I think you've been trained enough, so you might wanna get your behind to the boss and see what he can do for you. Bon Voyage."

I thanked Darrel and left the firing range with my gun. I stopped by my room to drop off my gun. Afterwards, I tried to find the boss. After asking several people, I found him drinking coffee in the kitchen while reading a serious-looking book.

"Er...Wallace? Darrel says I'm good with my gun skills, so...can I go out into the field with Gunther?"

Wallace looked up from his book, chuckling. "You think that," He took a sip from his cup before continuing. "you can go into the field just because you know how to use a firearm? No, no, no, Robert. Now, I'm sending you to the close range combat practice room. You'll be working with Bruiser.

"Bruiser? What the _hell_?"

"He's a retired wrestler. He trains the new guys how to fight hand-to-hand. Run along now." Wallace returned his attention to his coffee and his book.

--

I walked along the metallic halls, searching for the room I needed to get to. I stopped in front of a door that said, "Bruiser's Lair. Enter at your own risk." I unlocked the door with my keycard and stepped in. Bruiser's lair was a small room with punching bags and equipment on the floor, on shelves, everywhere. A huge man was punching the stuffing out of one of his punching bags.

"H-hello?"

The man spun around and sighed. "You must be the new guy, eh? Guess I gotta train you, then. C'mere."

I walked up to him. He was about two feet taller than me and about a foot wider. His muscles bulged out of his black short sleeved shirt.

"So, you gotta be able to know how to fight in..." He looked at a clock on the wall. "Thirty-five. Hokay. So, I wanna see whatcha got. What's your name?"

"Robert."

"Okay, Bob. Go up against that bag over there. He pointed at a smaller punching bag in the corner of the room."

I walked up to it and punched it once. "Keep goin', ya sissy." Bruiser said. I punched the bag again, a bit angrier. "Is dat the best ya got? Darrel's grandma can punch better than-"

I went all out in the bag in fury. I threw fast punches, kicked it a few times, and punched it some more.

"Good. Now, try it out on me." I turned to Bruiser.

"For real?"

"Yeah. C'mon, gimme the best you got."

I tried to punch him. He effortlessly grabbed my palm with two fingers and twisted my hand until I had to scream. He let go and shoved me to the floor.

"Okay, what did you learn from that?" asked Bruiser as I stood up.

"Not to punch you." I muttered.

"That's a good idea, but nah. What move did you learn?"

"The one where you almost twisted my arm off."

"Right. Ya always want the upper hand in a fight. If the other guy has a gun, disarm 'em. If you had a gun and you've been disarmed, knock the guy out and take your gun back, then shoot him OR disarm him. So," Bruiser took a small handgun out of his pocket. "try to take this gun from me."

I reached out to grab it unenthusiastically. He pulled the trigger as soon as my arm moved. The gun made a clicking sound, showing it was out of ammo.

"Now, if this was a loaded gun, you'd be dead. C'mon, you need to catch 'em off guard! Here, take this gun and I'll try to disarm you."

I pointed the gun at him. Immediately, he ducked down and headbutted me in the stomach. I managed to hold onto my gun, but he twisted it out of my hands right away and "shot" me.

"Don't be like those nitwits on TV that taunt their enemy before killing 'em, 'cause their enemy eventually wins. Okay? That's Hollywood's screwed up idea of that crap. If you've got a shot, take it. And when you're trying to disarm a guy, move quickly. You got an advantage 'cause...well, you're as light as hell."

Only now had my breathing returned to normal. The wind had been knocked out of me. "Can I try again?" I asked. I handed the gun back to him. He pointed the gun at me and was about to take the shot when I ducked. I slammed into him, knocking him off balance. I grabbed his hand and twisted it until I had rendered it useless. As I was about to take the gun from him, he punched me across the jaw with his other hand. As I fell back, he shot me.

I felt around my mouth for blood. After finding none, I stood up, frowning. Bruiser was snickering uncontrollably.

"Stay low until you're _sure _you've got the upper hand. Have another go." He pointed the gun at me. I dropped to the ground and kicked my foot at his legs.

"OW!" He dropped to the ground, his gun still in hand. I hit him in the stomach with my elbow and punched his un-armed hand. It probably hurt a lot, since it was crushed between my fist and the hardwood. At this point, I twisted the gun out of his other hand and took the shot.

Bruiser clapped while still on the ground. "Good show, man. But you're forgetting something."

"What?"

"The Combine wear armor. Headbutting them or punching them would be suicide. So try to find a way to knock 'em down, maybe crack their necks or something. White Eagles don't wear that much armor, so try to keep your gun close at hand. Remember, against the Combine, disarming is your best bet. Now, for those deranged hippies that want to stop us,"

"Deranged hippies?"

"There are people who don't want us to fight the Combine with weapons. So, they try to mess up our operations. Take the ammo out of our guns, take out the engine in our cars, slash the tires, you name it. If one of them tries to stop ya, give him a solid whack. Some of them are armed and some of them are fight-oriented like me. So, I'm gonna introduce you to a drill."

Bruiser walked over to one of his shelves and grabbed two pairs of boxing gloves. He put on a pair and gave the other one to me.

"Okay. This is how it's gonna work. I'm gonna be standing here like this. You throw punches to my stomach, and I'll swing back at your head randomly. You have to duck, get back up, and keep punching."

Bruiser also grabbed some light armor and slipped it over his front. "Go." I began punching him in the chest rapidly. After a few seconds, he swung at my head, just barely missing it. The next time he did that, it _really _caught me off guard. His fist connected with my head and I fell over.

"Watch for clues in my shoulder and arm to see when I'll punch. I might try to fake you out."

--

After a few more minutes of this exercise, Bruiser gave me a few more tips, congratulated me, and sent me off to find Wallace.

I found Wallace in the same chair, with the same book and the same beverage.

"I'm finished there." I told him.

Wallace looked up at me. "I see you were trained well. You've got a bit of blood around your lip."

I wiped it off with my sleeve and spit out any other blood there may have been.

"You can go to Gunther's room, number 27. Tell him you're ready for the field, and then report to the briefing room AT ONCE. Understood?"

"Yeah."

"Then scram." Wallace waved me off again.

I walked to my room first and grabbed my gun and ammunition. I looked around for anything else important and left.

I knocked on Gunther's door.

"Come in!" I heard him yell.

I slid my card and unlocked the door. Not so secure, but it wasn't my problem.

Gunther's room was much more exciting than mine. He had pictures of Spanish supermodels on his wall. On his nightstand was a picture of his family in a canoe on some lake. Gunther was toying with a Rubik's Cube when I entered. His gun lay on the floor next to his bed.

"Ready to go, Robert?" Gunther asked, putting his Rubik's cube down.

"Yeah. Wallace said that we need to-"

"Report to the briefing room. I know. Come on."

I followed him through the halls, anxious to go out into the field and do some ass-whooping. Revenge is sweet.

**And that's a wrap. Hour 4 will come, don't worry. :P**


	4. The Fourth Hour: The Tower

**Time: 3:05**

We exited the briefing room. By now, the cold, cruel reality had overtaken the thrill of training. Many feet above us, there was brutality and death. My entire family was in danger, if not already dead.

--

Our mission was to destroy a communication tower that the Combine had set up on the outskirts of the city, in a forest. It was moderately guarded, and we needed nearly 100 pounds of explosives to blow up the tower. Gunther and I would split the weight, both of us lugging 50 pounds from where we would park the car. We planned that location to be a campground. We would trek through the forest until we reached the tower. We were to neutralize any guards, and then tie the explosives to the tower supports with twine. Once we were a safe distance away, we would radio the base and give them the all clear for detonation.

If we succeeded, the Combine would have a hard time communicating with other occupied cities, "for the tower does not improve communication of the Combine within our city," in the words of Wallace. So, essentially, we were putting the Combine under siege.

--

Wallace handed Gunther and I our armor. White vests, white knee pads, white helmets, (With black visors), and night vision goggles that were to be worn under our visors.

"These vests will protect against both plasma and ballistic projectiles. But you can only get shot for so long until the vests become useless. Be conservative with your bullets, and it's pretty obvious that you should not let your backpacks be shot. The explosives aren't protected very heavily, so you can move faster." Wallace gave us some final details and we left the base.

As we came to the car, Gunther ruled out that he would drive and I would be strapped in on top. Gunther started the car as I was tying myself onto it. A few moments later, we were off.

--

As we drove along the freeway, we spotted an Army helicopter in flames. Dead soldiers lay near the wreckage.

I kept my gun close. Gunther swerved by the copter.

As the freeway curved, I saw an enormous tripod standing in the middle of the road. There was a "head" at the top of the tripod. The head had a large gun protruding from it.

I had been told by Carter that it was a Strider. It shot plasma bullets, but when _really _pissed it would fire a cannon that would incinerate anything it could.

Gunther slowed down the car. He rolled down his window and whispered, "I'm going to drive to the side of it. Don't make a sound!"

"How good is the Strider's hearing?" I asked.

"I've no clue. And I do not want to find out. I did this same thing on the freeway as Carter and I were coming to pick you up from your home."

Foot by foot, the car crept by the colossal strider. It was occupied in the sky, probably searching for another helicopter to shoot down.

All of a sudden, it stepped back, one of its legs rising right above our car. Gunther stepped on the gas and the car sped away from under the spiny Strider leg. It turned around to see us. I remembered Wallace's warning to, "be conservative with bullets", so I did not shoot.

Unfortunately, the Strider had no such restriction. It opened fire. A shower of bullets flew past us. One hit me in the back of the helmet, another hit the car, and three others hit my vest. Gunther accelerated further.

As soon as we were about to drive around the corner of the highway and get out of the Strider's sight, I heard a sound like something was charging. I looked behind me. The Strider was about to fire the cannon I heard so much about. An enormous blast echoed through my ears. My skin was pressed against my bones, and the car's rear lifted slightly.

We drove out of sight. No major damage had been inflicted, we were too far away. I let out my breath sharply.

--

As the highway began to get more and more narrow and windy, Gunther turned off of the road and into a parking lot for a campground. The headlights of our car illuminated a sign that read, "Campground Closed due to extreme fire danger. NO TRESPASSING."

The Combine sure knew where to set up shop. Gunther shut off the headlights as fast as possible and parked. After I hopped off the car, I lifted my visor and put on my night vision goggles. Everything was now a bright shade of green.

"Shouldn't there be guards?" I whispered. I held my gun very tightly.

"No." That was it. A simple, "No." We grabbed our packs from the car and left.

We walked through the forest quietly. A mosquito buzzed by my ear. _Mosquitoes at this hour? Shouldn't they be asleep? _I thought to myself. I heard another mosquito. And this time it was accompanied by something hitting my vest, piercing it. These were no mosquitoes.

"Gunther! Snipers!" He dove to the ground, followed closely by me. We were hiding behind an evergreen. At this point, I figured out that the mosquitoes were bullets whizzing past me.

"What do we do?" I whispered, panicked.

Gunther peeked around the tree for a few seconds before turning back to me. "I see the sniper. If I distract him, we can run in the opposite direction and get out of his range. Then, we can come behind him and get rid of him. Got any diversion ideas?"

I thought for a while and then it occurred to me. I picked up a rock and threw it as far as I could into the forest. It was very noisy and sounded very similar to running footsteps through leaf litter.

We tiptoed away from our hiding spot, making a loop so we were behind the sniper. He was still aiming at the rock I had thrown. When I was about ten feet behind him, I raised my gun and shot him. The shots rang out through the forest and echoed for a few more seconds before everything was silent. The sniper now lay in a heap on the ground.

"Hurry up, Robert. Someone probably heard that." We sprinted on. Branches whipped my face and roots tried to trip me.

After a minute of running, my night vision goggles were overwhelmed by a bright light. I lifted them to see the tower in a man-made clearing. It was tall, but dwarfed by the evergreens surrounding it. A force field made a perimeter around the tower, and the only way through was guarded by five soldiers clad in white uniform.

"Ready?" I whispered.

"And...go! Now!" Gunther commanded. We burst into the clearing and opened fire.


	5. The Fifth Hour: Sabotage

**Time: 4:00 AM**

Almost instantly, we were sighted by the Combine guards. They returned their fire, the plasma bullets fizzing on my armor. I kept everything I learned in my training in mind. I focused on a certain target and fired short bursts.

Just then, I heard something charging up, some kind of machinery getting progressively louder. One of the guards shot a large bubble from his gun. "Get down!" Gunther shoved me down. My helmet hit a small rock poking out of the ground. The shock stunned me for a few seconds, but in that time Gunther had killed the remaining guards.

The only damage I had taken was a burn on my leg from a plasma bullet, which felt no different than touching a heating element inside of an oven.

I grimaced. "You alright?" Gunther asked, eyeing my leg.

"I don't know." I stepped on my injured leg. I bit my tongue and ignored the searing feeling that would not quit.

"Better get used to it. If you think that hurts, wait until someone fires a shotgun at you. But we've been standing here for a while now, we need to mo-"

A klaxon blared from inside a tiny shed alongside the tower, most likely the housing for the alarm and nothing else.

"Shit, we need to move!" We ran as fast as we could through the force field perimeter. The deafening sound blasted through to my eardrums and rattled them. It was a good thing my helmet covered my ears, if it hadn't I'd be deaf.

A small building sat next to the tower. Inside I could see a monitor and other blinking lights, most likely the controls for the tower and communication station.

On the monitor was a single blinking message. "Alarm activated, emergency protocol in place."

"Robert, check inside there, kill anyone hiding!" Gunther screamed over the alarm.

I jogged into the control room. An un-armored man knelton the ground, weeping. "I'm sorry, they were threatening my family! I had to set off the-"

I didn't need to hear anything further. I shot the man. His blood splashed onto the controls behind him.

When I stepped out of the building, I saw Gunther frantically pacing around. "Robert! Part of their emergency protocol is to electrify the tower! I can't climb it!" At this point, the alarm started to fade. In the distance, I heard helicopter propellers. Faint lights were visible in the forest, but growing stronger by the second.

My radio crackled to life. "Boys? What the hell is going on down there? The radio's gone berserk!"

"The tower alarm has been sounded! There are Combine reinforcements coming in now!" Gunther responded with his radio.

"Well, climb the freakin' tower and plant that dynamite!"

"I can't, they've electrified the supports!"

"Ah, for the love of God, Gunther, dump the packs and run!" I yelled. I let my backpack slip off my shoulders. He did the same.

"Boys, ready or not, those explosives are going off in one and a half minutes! Get your asses back to base!"

--

We ran as fast as our legs could carry us. For me, it wasn't very fast but it was fast enough. I snapped my night vision goggles back on. A tiny arrow on the HUD of the goggles pointed the way back to the car. There was also a count-down clock to detonation. We had one minute and three seconds. We were definitely running away from the forest lights, but I had no clue if there was anything in front of me until I whacked it aside with my gun. Not to mention the helicopter...

We ran in silence, the only sound was our frantic footsteps. With twenty seconds to spare on the timer, we were definitely out of range of the explosion. The car was only yards in front of us. I charged through one final blackberry bush and came out onto the clearing. I gasped. The tracking device of the car was there on the ground, the car was a flaming wreck on the other side of the lot. The trees around the parking lot had been flattened by something from above. My best guess was that the Combine had used one of their ships to pick up our car and drop it from a distance.

At that point, the explosives detonated. I spun around to face the explosion. It wasn't very large, but I'm sure it was enough to damage, if not destroy the tower.

"Gunther to base, our car is out of commission. The Combine totaled it. Can you send another one?"

"_Argh_! How'd they ruin it?" The base responded, clearly annoyed.

"They picked it up with something and dropped it. We don't have much time, we need to get out of here. I think the reinforcements are coming closer." The forest lights were indeed getting brighter. And...one enormous orange light was visible as well. Accompanied with a scent of smoke.

"Gunther! It's a forest fire! I pointed towards the blaze, then to the sign that warned us about the danger upon our entry to the campground.

"Hurry up with that car, we have guns, not fire extinguishers!" I practically spat at my radio as I talked.

"It's coming, it's coming. Hold your position, get rid of the reinforcements."

I took a deep breath. The lights in the forest became so bright through the trees that I began to doubt we were up against individual soldiers. I heard trees crumbling to the ground and saws spinning. A few seconds later, three enormous vehicles drove out of the forest. They had enormous saws in the front that could easily plow through the densest of forest like soft cheese. The vehicles positioned themselves around us so we were surrounded. One drove right over our car. These things were easily as tall as two story buildings. An enormous turret sat atop each of the vehicles.

"Surrender now and tell us where your base of operations is." An obviously altered voice commanded. It was coming from one of the forest crushers.

I clutched my gun.

"You have ten seconds to tell us before we incinerate you like the garbage you are. Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six..."

"What do we do?" I asked, petrified.

"No talking! Four..." The saw blades on one of the vehicles started to spin again. "Three..." The crusher drove forward slightly. It was a mere five feet away now. "Two..."

"NO!" Gunther threw his gun into the blade. I knew at that point to just run straight out of the campground.

"Open fire, Robert!" I didn't listen. I ran straight out of the campground and onto the mountain highway.

--

The helicopter I had seen earlier set its searchlight on me. It beeped mechanically and started to shoot with the same plasma bullets the tower guards had used. My vest was quickly becoming useless. I dove back into the forest alongside the road and hid behind a moss-covered rock. I lay on the ground and groaned. The bullets from the helicopter mangled my vest badly. In the distance, I could hear a screaming Gunther followed by the sounds of snapping bone. The forest crushers got him, although I was in too much pain to understand what just happened. I began to slip in and out of consciousness, the sounds of the forest becoming weaker and weaker.

Headlights of a car became visible down the road. With the only energy I had, I put my arm out onto the road for the car to see. It screeched to a stop and two men in White Eagle uniform jumped out. I recognized Carter, but not the other person. This person tall and thin with tattoos over his neck and arms.

"What the hell?" Carter pointed his flashlight in my direction. "_Robert_?_"_

"Mmmmhmm." That was all I could say.

"What happened?"

"Carter, he's too weak to explain! Let's get him patched up and he'll tell us on the way." The other man snapped. Without another word, both men picked me up carefully and carried me to the backseat of the sedan. They turned me over onto my back.

"Good god." Carter gasped.

"Nice that we have these." I couldn't see what the man was talking about, but I loved it. He poured some kind of liquid over my wounds. It stung for a few seconds, but I felt the pain go away. I felt a bit stronger and the world became more solid. I sat up.

"Great! But we have to go now. Tell us what happened on the way back to base! Oh, and by the way, this guy is Lance." Carter gestured toward Lance and jumped up on top of the car, I clambered into the passenger seat, and Lance started the car.

"Where's Gunther?" Carter asked.

"Dead." I answered. It was about now that I realized how bad I felt for letting him die. Of course, I think we both would have died if I stayed.

"Oh." An awkward silence followed until Lance cut in.

"This is stupid. If we stick around, God knows who'll find us." He made a U-turn and began to drive back down the mountain in silence. Lance radioed the base. "We're coming back with Robert."

The base responded immediately. "No no no you're not. Go downtown and help fight the Combine there!"

"But-"

"Lance, I don't want to hear it. I trust Robert has enough energy and there's nothing at base." A beep ended the talk. Lance sighed. We passed the exit to the base and continued downtown.


	6. The Sixth Hour: Defense of the Young

**Time: 5:01 AM**

Lance was silent for a good chunk of the car ride. Finally, as we were nearing a bridge over a river, he spoke up.

"So, what were you doing before...this?" Lance waved his hand around.

"You really care?" I asked.

"Well, it sure beats awkward silent driving."

"Fine. I worked with the satellite TV company as an installer of the dishes and that kind of stuff."

"Really? Did you like doing it?"

"I hated it. I was doing searches online for other kinds of jobs and preparing to quit, but then...you know. My wife actually was a nurse, which was where most of our money came from."

"Well, since you told me I might as well tell you. I was a tattoo artist, but I've been with the White Eagles for three years now. When I started, it was just me, Wallace, and like fifteen others. Now we have three bases and, what, 150 members. If you care about my marital status, I'm single."

"I guess I shouldn't be too surprised," I said, eyeing his countless tattoos. "Do you know what Carter did?"

"He was in grad school for a veterinary degree."

"I guess he'd make the most money, then."

"Maybe. But he sure had no life outside of school 'til two months ago, when he joined us."

My radio crackled to life. "Are you guys talking about me?" It was Carter, on the roof of the car.

"What makes you say that?" I asked.

"Just a hunch. I just get paran-"

"Carter, Combine!" Lance screamed into my radio. We had just gotten on the bridge, the four soldiers were rappelling down from one of the arches. Carter opened fire, but his aim was sloppy. The soldier's rifles were much more accurate and nearly each one was hitting the car. I rolled down my window and aimed up at one of the soldiers. I shot one and killed him successfully. He slid down his rope and slammed into the ground. We drove straight under the soldiers. Carter killed another one right before Lance accelerated across the bridge. In the other lane, there was terrible traffic out of the city. Countless cars were driving right through the divider onto our side to get past the traffic. We were among the only vehicles heading downtown. A police cruiser was right behind us, and just getting off the bridge was an army truck.

Built on a large delta in the middle of the river was city hall. There was a huge fire ravaging the delta. I cringed. What other surprises were in store once we got to the other side of the river? The financial district towered above the surrounding area, surprisingly intact.

But on the outer parts of downtown, smoke rose above smoldering buildings. Army helicopters were flying around the burning buildings, shooting at the Combine below.

The first glimmers of daylight were visible over the river, turning the surrounding sky pink.

"Guys? What the hell is that?" Carter asked. "Up ahead, over the Hilton."

"Good god." Lance gasped. It certainly wasn't any aircraft I had ever seen. It looked alive, even. Rocket-propelled grenades were hitting it every few seconds. It was shot a few times before it finally spiraled down into the river.

"Score!" I smiled.

We finally got to the other end of the bridge. People were running everywhere, screaming. We couldn't drive at full speed without hitting someone. There were people trying to break into our car. I heard Carter yelling that we were here to help, but people kept whacking the car with whatever we could find.

"Thank god we have this." Lance flipped up a panel on the car's dashboard. "Carter, I'm using the tear gas. Cover up."

Lance pushed a small blue button. Almost instantly, I saw gas rising up from the bottom of the car. People started falling away, screaming and covering their eyes. Now that those in front were scared of us, they ran away. We had a clear path. Lance accelerated.

"Lance to base! Lance to base! Where do you want us to go in downtown?" He yelled through his radio.

"This is base, set up at the children's hospital. The Combine are attacking it. You'll have six other Eagles to help you."

"Those bastards. Can't even leave the kids alone!" I yelled.

Lance turned off onto the main street. After a few minutes of cautious driving, we came to the hospital complex. Parked in the front of the lot were three other White Eagle cars, each with their own bullet holes and dents from wannabe carjackers.

The lights in the hospital were off, possibly because the Combine cut the power. The glass entry doors were shot out. The dead receptionist slumped over her desk, a bullet wound in her back. The sun was now reflecting off of the windows, giving them a golden glow.

"Okay, people. No talking." Lance commanded. We cautiously stepped through the broken doors and put on our helmets. Glass crunched under our feet.

"Robert to base, which floor of the children's hospital are they on?" I whispered.

"The majority are on the fourth floor."

Carter walked over to the elevator and pushed the button. "Um, Carter? No power equals no elevator. We're taking the stairs." Lance opened the door to the fire exit stairway, I immediately walked in and shone my flashlight up the stairs. A Combine soldier saw my light and dropped a grenade down the stairs.

"Fire in the hole!" I yelled. I jumped out of the way of the falling grenade and shut the heavy fire door behind me. Once the grenade blew up, Lance opened the door and Carter rushed in. He shot the soldier, getting three bullet wounds in the process.

"Bitch." He mumbled. We continued up to the first floor. I opened the door to this story and gasped. It would have been enough to see dead adults littering the floor. But this was a hospital for children. I almost fell to my knees. Dead kids lay on the floor, a single fluorescent light illuminating the corridor.

I slammed the door angrily. "Come on, you COWARDS!" I swung my gun at the wall. "COME OUT HERE!" I fired into the stairs. Carter shoved me up against the wall and Lance yanked the rifle out of my hands.

"Robert! Don't be so foolish!"

"Foolish? DO YOU KNOW HOW IT FEELS TO SEE THIS? Especially after losing TWO SONS!" I struggled against Carter's grip. "I'll take them all by myself if it comes down to it! EVERY ONE!"

"Robert! If we don't succeed in this mission then every single ICU on Earth is going to look like this! Not to mention nursing homes, maternity wards, insane asylums...the Combine hate the humans, be they crazy, old, young, seriously injured or just finishing up with an incubator. You know those hippies you were told about during your training? They're always whining about peace, not war, wah wah wah. Well, people are going to die either way, it's just that when you have a war, you prevent millions more from dying. Think of the people after you when you act like this!" Lance glared at me angrily. "Now sprout some balls and let's keep moving." Carter released me.

I was silent the rest of the way up the stairs. I was furious at Lance earlier, but now my anger was slowly evaporating as I realized he was right.

--

As we came to the fourth floor, Carter put his ear up against the door and listened. "Oh, there's definitely something going on in there. Gunfire and whatnot." He pulled out his radio. "Carter to all other units at the children's hospital, are you on the fourth floor of the west wing?" A few seconds of silence followed.

"Negative, Carter, we're in the east wing. There's a walkway connecting the two wings on the third floor, you can get to us there."

"So, down to the third floor?" Carter asked Lance.

He thought for a bit. "Later. First, let's deal with the stuff past this door. We don't know what we're walking into, so stand back." Lance quickly turned the doorknob and pushed the door open. Carter and I were on both sides of the door, hidden by the wall.

"Boys! Give 'em hell!" Lance charged into the corridor and opened fire. I ran into the first hospital room on the right after firing a few rounds at a soldier. I checked my gun and popped out of the hospital room to shoot a soldier.

As soon as I emerged, I sustained enemy fire. There were so many at once, I just couldn't concentrate. In the end, I just stuck my gun out the door and fired that way.

Peeking out, I saw I hadn't killed anyone, just injured them. Lance had taken cover behind a medicine cart and was killing much more efficiently. He was using a mirror on the opposite wall to aim. Unfortunately, there was no mirror on the opposite wall for me. I just came out of cover again and shot a soldier. He finally went down.

"Robert! Incoming!" A grenade rolled along right in front of me. I kicked it back down the hall as it blew up. "Nice work!" Lance gave me a thumbs up. I came out of cover and shot the remaining soldiers.

Carter appeared out of a supply closet.

"You slick little bastard." Lance chuckled.

"Hey, I killed one!"

"Guys, did you even see the damage done on this floor?" I pointed to the dead children the Combine had killed before we came.

"Robert, remember what I said on the stairs and stop trying to make me feel like a cold hearted killer, it ain't working." We left the hallway and returned back to the third floor corridor. We walked along the silent halls and across the wing connector, ready for to fight with our fellow Eagles.


	7. The Seventh Hour: Betrayal

**Time: 6:02 AM**

Lance radioed the other troops in the hospital. "What floor are you guys on at the children's hospital?" We were standing in the east wing, listening for any activity. It was dead silent.

"We're in the basement. We're about to bust a temporary Combine base there, we're just waiting for you. We've cleared out all other troops in the building. Unfortunately, there's five of us now."

"Okay, we're on our way. Do you have frame charges for the base door?"

"They've been planted. As I said, we're waiting for you."

Lance clipped his radio back onto his suit. He motioned for us to follow him to the emergency stairway. He put his ear up against the door. Before I could ask, he said, "You can never be too careful. It's clear."

He was about to open the door when Carter yelled for him not to.

"What is it?" Lance was visibly annoyed.

"Read the sign." Carter pointed to a bright green sign on the door that said, "For Emergency Only. Alarm Will Sound."

"Oh." Without another word, Lance stood back and shot the wire connecting the alarm to the latch on the door. He opened it and began to go down the stairs.

Carter and I followed him down to the ground floor. We could no longer go down any more stairs. We walked out into the lobby. This one was bigger, although it shared some characteristics with the western lobby. A receptionist clad in purple scrubs was slumped over her desk. The glass entry doors were shot out. A few dead adults sat in chairs, magazines sprawled over their laps.

"Where's the basement door?" Carter asked.

We searched the lobby until Lance whispered, "Over here!" He was pointing to a door that had been blown off of its hinges. The charred sign on the door read, "Basement Access. Authorized Personnel Only."

"Yahtzee." Carter smiled.

"What the hell does that mean?" I raised an eyebrow, a skill I had been working on for months.

"You know, like bingo, eureka...any of those ring a bell?"

"You've got some weird expressions."

"Quit fooling around, you two. We need to be quiet." Lance snapped.

--

We cautiously walked down a flight of concrete stairs until we found a pair of double doors whose windows were painted over. Standing at the sides of the door were our five teammates. They motioned for us to be quiet. One of them held a small remote control, most likely controlling the explosives on the door. Over the doorknob was a strange lock, most likely installed by the Combine. I guessed that it was hard to open, so we were just blowing the doors clear away. We took our positions on the sides of the door. I checked my gun and braced myself for the explosion. The leader of the other group held up three fingers, then two fingers, then one finger, and then he slapped the door emphatically.

The man with the remote pushed the button. The explosion knocked me to the ground, and all was quiet for a few seconds. One of the troops pulled me up to my feet and yelled for me to "get in there".

I tried to make out the Combine in the smoke. It wasn't so hard, thanks to their bright blue eye holes in their masks. I shot one while trying to avoid inhaling the smoke at the same time. I got hit in the chest with a bullet, although there was no way to tell who shot it.

Another light was now visible. It was red, and moving. I remembered the grenade thrown at me and its tiny red light on top. Snapping back to my senses, I kicked the grenade towards another pair of blue eyes. The explosion got him, but knocked me to the ground as well. By now, we had killed all of the soldiers and the smoke and airborne plaster had settled. I coughed and stood up, clenching my jaw.

The tired Eagles around me exchanged weak smiles, but before long the commander spoke up. "Nolten and Rose, you two stay here and try to disable as much of this as you can. The rest of you, a Chinook is taking us to the center of downtown. The army's over there, but they don't know how to handle the Combine there as we do. Move out!"

We ran back up the stairs and to the helicopter landing pad adjacent to the E.R. A helicopter with the White Eagles logo hovered a few inches off the ground. The cabin doors were wide open. The commander hopped in first, urging everyone in. I hopped in and found myself a seat. After the last man came on, the commander pointed to Carter.

"You're going to stay on this bird as it circles above downtown. Shoot any Combine with that mounted gun." He pointed to a long gun poking out of the door. "Got that?"

Carter nodded silently. The pilot lifted off the ground and we flew to the financial district.

As we neared the tallest banks and hotel towers, the commander explained that we were going to be dropped on top of a building a few stories taller than the Striders that were destroying the streets.

There was supposedly a weapons cache on the roof, with rocket-propelled grenades for taking out Striders and enemy aircraft. Some of us would go to the street and take out the individual Combine troops.

The commander randomly assigned us roles. I was on rocket duty, Lance was put into the street group.

"The street group will find more of our boys once they get to street level. Okay, people. You know the motto. Take only lives, leave only corpses. Go!" The helicopter touched down on the rooftop. The street group ran straight to the roof access door and started to go down the steps to the street. I jumped off and found the weapons cache the commander was talking about. I put down my rifle and picked up the remarkably heavy rocket launcher.

"Good luck, Robert!" Lance waved and followed the rest of the street group down. I was left with only one other person, a man that couldn't be any younger than sixty.

Carter also waved goodbye from the helicopter as it took to the skies again.

--

The old man's radio crackled to life. "Okay, you two. This is your mobile field base. I'm going to be giving you cues on where the Striders are coming from. Do you know how to work an RPG, Montgomery?"

"I'm a war vet. What do _you _think? And it's _Monty_."

"Well, what about you, Robert?" the radio voice asked.

"Uh, no. Can't say I do." I felt slightly embarrassed standing next to a grumpy old man who evidently knew a thing or two about war.

"Well, it's pretty simple." the old man interrupted. "Just aim with the laser sight and fire! Just bend your knees and stand your ground, the recoil's a bitch."

"Okay, well, first Strider is coming from the east. It looks like it's trying to shoot down an aircraft."

I looked down the street. There was indeed a Strider, way off in the distance. It was firing at what appeared to be an Apache helicopter. The helicopter fired one missile at the Strider, aggravating it. The pilot was smart, though, and flew away. The Strider continued down the street, constantly scanning the skies.

"Watch out, Carter." I said to myself quietly.

"Fire the rocket while it's engaged with something else in the air or on the ground. Looks like our street folks are trying to distract it."

I glanced down toward the street. There was our group, carefully making their way down the street, running from cover to cover. Once they were close enough, they opened fire on the Strider. It transferred its attention from the skies to the ground, letting helicopter fire at it again.

I heard a strange noise, like a ratchet. "What was that?" I asked Monty.

"Eh, probably the Strider expressin' pain."

"It screams?"

"Guess so. Hey, look over there!" He pointed to two three-legged figures running down the street from the west side. They looked like mini Striders. There was no doubt they were trying to ambush the street crew from behind.

"Hunters! Light 'em up!" Monty pointed his RPG so the laser sight was right in front of the group of "hunters". He fired off his rocket. A second later, there were some more electronic screams as the two hunters flew backwards and landed in lifeless heaps. Unfortunately, this attracted the Strider's attention. Even though it was probably one hundred feet away, it began to shoot at us. Still holding my RPG, I hid behind a huge AC housing unit on the roof. I radioed Lance on the ground.

"It knows we're up here. I can't come out of cover unless it's occupied with something else."

"We have the same problem. It can knock us all out with one shot if it wanted to. You're too far away for the alternate fire to have any effect."

"How about you start shooting at it, and at the same time Monty and I will fire at it. Maybe Carter will join in. If we attack it all at once, it won't know what to do." The commander suggested.

"Sounds like a plan." I replied. I radioed Carter in the helicopter.

"Can you see the Strider, Carter?" I asked him.

"Which one?" He yelled over the noise of the helicopter. "From up here, I can see seven."

I quickly scanned the skyline for any notable landmarks. "The one next to the Solid Rock Café."

"You want me to focus in on that one?"

"Yeah."

"Be right th-OH GEEZ!"

"What happened?" My heart started racing.

There was no reply from Carter for a few gut-wrenching seconds. Then, I finally heard him talk. "Some Hunters on the ground hit the helicopter. Not much to worry about, it just startled me. Anyway, the pilot's flying over to your location. I think I see you on the roof of the, uh, Big City Motel? You're hiding behind an AC unit."

"That's me. Focus in on the Strider, though." I saw the helicopter that Carter was on fly down the street. As it passed over the Strider, I saw the light from the mounted gun and sparks on the hull of the Strider. It wheeled around to face the helicopter, but at that point the ground unit sprung into action.

As if that wasn't enough for the Strider to handle, I stepped out of cover and pointed the RPG towards the Strider. I held my breath to steady the thing, and then pulled the trigger.

Monty was right. The recoil _was _a bitch. I wasn't knocked to the ground completely, although I did take a few steps back. Monty had reloaded and took his shot as well!

"Strider down! Yes! We showed the bastard!" I heard Monty cheer.

--

"Okay, people. This is your mobile base. The helicopter is coming back down to pick you up. Montgomery and Robert, join the ground unit down below."

"It's Monty, you piece of shit." Monty grumbled to himself. We hurried down the stairs to street level to join up with the team. We gave each other a round of high-fives before hopping back onto the helicopter. I was delighted to see that no one had been killed or even injured. The helicopter lifted off and took us to our next location. The commander said that he had received his orders straight from Wallace Breen.

--

The helicopter dropped us off in a city park. Even the pilot was ordered by the commander to get out of the cockpit. The strangest part was that we were to leave our weapons in the helicopter.

Dumbfounded, we stepped off of the helicopter. Crowded around Wallace were, most likely, _all _of the White Eagles.

"What's going on?" Lance asked me quietly.

"You think _I _know?"

We gathered around Wallace. He took a deep breath. "Men, we are fighting a losing battle. Before the day is done, we'll be dead. Every single person, and the Combine will have the Earth. This is why, for the past few hours, I have been negotiating with two Combine leaders." A few murmurs were audible throughout the crowd. "I have surrendered the Earth to the Combine. In return, they will spare all the lives on Earth and give me the power to rule over every human being. BOYS, HIT THEM!"

Before I could think, a Strider poked out of the trees in the park and fired its cannon at our helicopter. Other Striders revealed themselves and blew up the other vehicles. Since the weapons were in the blown-up vehicles, they were useless.

Soldiers ran out from behind the trees. There must have been over a hundred. One brutally kicked me to the ground and handcuffed me. I could hardly think as I was dragged through the grass into a Combine vehicle. Other Eagles were piled on top of me, like we were sardines. Everyone was protesting and squirming around. The doors to the vehicle slammed shut. It began to drive away, taking us to live the rest of our lives in misery.

_**Whoo-hoo! Done! I am very pleased with how this story turned out, and I hope you are as well. I have uploaded the "Epilogue" chapter with this one, so I can finally get started on my next story idea and work on TMMOAH. **_

_**You must read the epilogue!**_


	8. The Hours After: Epilogue

_**Epilogue**_

I sat on the tattered red cushion of the train seat, still miserable. In five years, I had never shaken the feeling of betrayal. I buried my head in my hands.

"Hey, you alright?" A man with greasy hair and a mustache was holding onto one of the straps on the tram's ceiling.

"No! This is my third transfer this _week_!" I yelled.

"Geez, sorry. What's your name?" The man held up both hands defensively.

"It's, uh, Sheckley. Robert Sheckley. I never really liked the name Robert though, just call me Sheckley."

"Nice to meet you. I'm John Grigori, but I hate both names, so you can call me Griggs. Now c'mon, mister grumpy face! Stop being so grumpy!"

I smiled and held out my hand. "Nice to meet you too."


End file.
